


Broken Identities

by starconvoy



Category: The Railway Series - W. Awdry, Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mild Blood, Swearing, Whump, neither of them know their identities anymore, the brothers have an argument and it goes down hill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23365027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starconvoy/pseuds/starconvoy
Summary: From a drabble prompt sent to me by an anonymous user on tumblr. Spencer has a visit to the NRM and Mallard takes the opportunity to get some stuff off his chest...although, he doesn't go about it in the best way. An argument ensues including questions of identity, family loyalty, life purpose, and relationships. Someone's nose is going to break and you better be careful.
Relationships: mallard and green arrow, mallard and spencer, spencer and flying scotsman
Kudos: 13





	Broken Identities

_ NRM - Present Day _

“You were never proud of me.”

Spencer looked up from the paper in his hand, just as he was about to take a sip from his tea.

“What?”

“You were never proud of me,” Mallard said again, his voice shaking with anger. Spencer had stopped in last night and would be staying at the NRM for a few days while the Duke and Duchess were visiting friends in York. There had been the usual tensions with his coming, but Spencer hadn’t thought twice about it. He had avoided his younger brother with the hope of not starting anything. Mallard, however, seemed bent on changing that.

“Proud in regards to what?” Spencer replied carefully, keenly aware of the tremble in Mallard’s voice. He had turned his eyes back to the newspaper in his hand, hoping that this would end quickly. He longed for a visit where their interactions didn’t dissolve into shouting.

“I set the record! I was holding up the family’s legacy. Why weren’t you proud of me?!” The ire in Mallard’s voice began to rise and Spencer felt a stab of frustration in his chest, knowing that if this continued, there would soon be a gathering around them.

“You could have handled it differently for one thing,” Spencer answered, putting his paper down with a sigh. There was no escaping this conversation and he hoped it wouldn’t turn ugly. “Letting it go to your head didn’t make you popular with anyone, much less your own siblings.”

Mallard seethed at Spencer’s words. “You were just jealous that I beat your record and everyone else’s. Sir Nigel was proud of what I did.”

Spencer stared hard at Mallard. “That’s the best counter-argument you have?” He could feel his own anger begin to rear its ugly head in his chest. Spencer sat up straighter in his chair.

“Why would I be jealous of someone like you?” he asked quietly. “All your record has done has gotten you stuck on a museum plinth for the rest of eternity. Your life isn’t nearly as fulfilling as anyone else’s. Sure I was passed over for preservation initially, but at least I still have a purpose.”

That final statement pierced through Mallard’s wall of anger like a sword, Spencer could tell. His eyes had widened in shock and his thin face went pale. Spencer could feel his anger coiling around in his chest, satisfied that he had managed to hurt Mallard for once. Usually it was the other way around. 

Spencer stood, facing his younger brother who stood there lost for words. There was no hope of holding back now. Whatever Mallard’s intentions were, it had been enough to annoy Spencer. He clenched his fists at his sides, resisting the urge to strike Mallard across the face. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of fear in Mallard’s eyes. Spencer was the stronger of the two of them, since he still maintained active duty while Mallard rarely left the NRM, much less under his own power. He was suddenly aware of how small Mallard looked as he cowered in front of him.

“And don’t give me that shite about ‘holding up the family legacy’, you hypocrite. Our family was made of respectful engines, but you were never one of them,” Spencer spat. All of the memories were flooding back now: Mallard being hailed the greatest engine in the world, Sir Nigel Gresley suddenly forgetting the previous records set by his earlier engines, the distancing and rejection that followed. The A4 family had looked to him, as the oldest, to make the ultimate decision on what to do with their wayward sibling. Silver Link couldn’t bear to take on the full responsibility for it and had put it to a vote amongst them. Spencer wasn’t sure if he would still have done the same, knowing how bad Mallard had gotten.

Mallard opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer quickly cut him off.

“All you did for our family was tarnish our legacy. Sure, we were the pride of the LNER and Sir Nigel Gresley’s wonderful sons and daughters, but you,” Spencer said, pointing his finger into Mallard’s chest. “You caused so much trouble that the other railways began to wonder if we were all like you: arrogant brats.”

Mallard’s mind was working overtime after getting over the initial shock of being told he had no purpose. Spencer’s words kept entering his ears, but they sounded as if they were coming from far away. The finger poking into his chest felt like a pinprick and he barely noticed himself taking a step back from Spencer. A storm was brewing in his chest, cold and hurt. He had wanted so badly for his oldest brother to be proud of him. Great Northern had acknowledged his accomplishment prior to his downfall...why couldn’t Spencer?

It didn’t matter now. Mallard felt the cold solidify in his chest before finally responding to his brother.

“ _ I  _ tarnished our family’s legacy?” he laughed. “Oh, right, and the fact that Scotsman nearly got himself scrapped in America doesn’t tarnish it.”

“Don’t drag Scott into this when he’s not here to stand up for himself,” Spencer said in a low voice. Ever since their reunion at King’s Cross where the world had ended for Silver Link, Spencer had remained Scott’s firm ally against his critics, Mallard especially. There would be no dragging Scott into this argument.

“Fine,” Mallard said, with a smirk on his face, realizing where he could turn the conversation. “But then what about you? Abandoning your Gresley-given name and number to become some isolated wanderer who barely acknowledges his origins? Don’t preach to me about Sir Nigel when you denied him by changing your identity,  _ Silver Link. _ ”

The hand that flew at Mallard’s face seemed to come from nowhere. Spencer hardly realized that it was his own until he was standing over Mallard who was curled up on the floor, his hands over his head.

“I  _ NEVER  _ denied him!” Spencer roared, bending close to Mallard’s ear. “I loved him more than you could ever understand!”

Spencer stood there breathing hard while Mallard was curled up in fetal position under him. A flurry of running footsteps could be heard down the hall and Spencer knew they were coming closer.

Mallard moved his hands slightly so he could look up. “Great show of love when you change your name,” he began, still feeling the sting of Spencer’s slap across his cheek. “If you loved him so much, why did you change it? Why not keep it? Or were you too ashamed of the fact that the great Silver Link would have ended up at his birthplace to die?”

Spencer grabbed Mallard by his collar and raised his fist, ready to punch him as hard as he could when the door slammed open. He looked up and noticed his vision was blurred by a sudden glaze of tears. 

“Spencer, put him down.”

Scott’s voice was quiet. He harbored no love for Mallard, so why was he telling him to stop?

“Spencer, listen to me. He’s not worth the effort.”

The tears began to drip down his cheeks as he realized Mallard’s question was valid. Why  _ did _ he change his name? Why not keep it to honor the man he loved so much?

Spencer looked down at Mallard who was trying to pry his fingers from his collar. Mallard looked up at Spencer and couldn’t help but give him a cold smile.

“Do it, you coward. That’s what you are, you know. A coward. You ran from your family and when you realized how lonely the world was, you ran back to us...but it was too late. You had already left your identity behind. You’re not a Gresley anymore. Once you left Silver Link behind, you branded yourself as a coward and a wanderer.”

Spencer almost didn’t hear Scott’s shout as his fist made contact with Mallard’s face. He felt the crack and Mallard’s cry of pain as blood suddenly splattered from his nose. He felt his fist slam into Mallard’s mouth, splitting his lip open and splattering more blood on his face. Spencer’s fist rose once more but suddenly he was being pulled up and away from Mallard’s bloodied face.

“Spencer, what’s gotten into you?”

A different voice this time. Spencer blinked through his tears and saw Green Arrow kneeling next to Mallard, his face white with shock. Arrow lifted Mallard into a sitting position and Spencer could see the blood dripping down his chin. The shock of seeing how much damage he had done kept Spencer quiet. Meanwhile, someone had pinned Spencer’s arms behind him and was pushing him to the door. 

“Don’t look back,” Scott’s voice said behind his ear as he forced Spencer down the hall. Spencer could feel the adrenaline leaving as quickly as it came. He was grateful that Scott was pushing him down the hall for he could barely see through his tears.

They reached the bathroom and Scott pushed him inside. Spencer collapsed on the floor as Scott closed the door behind him.

“What happened?” he asked, wetting a towel.

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but the only sound that came out was a sob. The anger had retreated now, wounded by the questions of his lost identity. Was he still Silver Link? Was ‘Spencer’ a different person from ‘Silver Link’? Were they the same? Spencer feared the answer.

Scott didn’t repeat his question and instead began blotting the blood from Spencer’s bruised knuckles as he sobbed. The warmth from the towel helped him calm down, but his breaths still came in shuddering gasps. Once he was done, Scott stood and left the bathroom for a moment, leaving Spencer shaking on the floor, wondering if he would come back. He returned a moment later, carrying an ice pack wrapped in a clean towel.

“What happened?” he asked again, holding out the ice pack.

Spencer felt his lip tremble as he took the ice pack and placed it on his hand. He looked away for a moment as a fresh set of tears came before looking at his cousin.

“He said I was a coward,” Spencer whispered. “He said...I betrayed Sir Nigel for giving up...my name.”

Scott watched as Spencer tried to hold himself together. He too had hoped that this visit would be without conflict, but instead, it was the most violent so far.

Scott couldn’t find any words to say as Spencer dissolved into sobs again. He hadn’t questioned the name change that day at King’s Cross; he was just happy to see his cousin again. Scott was surprised that the question affected Spencer so strongly; he assumed Spencer had already justified why he changed his name.

“Do you see yourself as having betrayed him?” Scott asked quietly. 

Spencer sniffed. He didn’t respond for a long moment.

“No,” he said plaintively. “I never intended for that.”

Scott could hear Spencer’s voice creeping up again. He sat down next to him. 

“Spencer, you can’t let Mallard do this to you. I don’t know where he learned this...emotional manipulation from, but he’s done it to me as well. I learned the hard way that you can’t let him get under your skin like that.” He looked at Spencer sadly. 

“Sir Nigel wouldn’t have wanted you to feel like this,” Scott said quietly. “After all you had been through...You’re not a different person than Silver Link. Spencer  _ is  _ Silver Link just...living a new life.”

Spencer looked up at Scott who smiled. 

“You’re still my family. The other A4s still call you their big brother. If Mallard doesn’t think the same way...it doesn’t matter. You still have the rest of us.”

Spencer couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, Scott. You know...I never thought we’d be in this position...you defending me instead of the other way around.”

Scott chuckled. “I didn’t think so either.”

The two cousins sat on the floor a little while longer to allow Spencer to recover. As he tended to his bruised hand, Scott couldn’t help but think to himself…

_ I knew we’d be in this position someday...but I had hoped it wouldn’t happen like this. _

\---

Arrow had managed to get Mallard to the hospital and back without too many questions, thankfully. As they sat on the train back to the NRM--with Mallard with the hood of his sweater up to hide his face--Arrow couldn’t keep silent much longer.

“What happened, Mallard?”

Mallard did not respond or even seem to acknowledge Arrow’s question. Arrow wondered if the pain meds had made him fall asleep but when he finally got Mallard’s attention, he saw tears in his eyes.

“Do I really have no purpose at the NRM, Arrow?” he asked in a strained voice.

_ No purpose?  _ Arrow paused. Surely Spencer hadn’t said that to him.

“Did...who said that?” Arrow asked, hoping he was wrong.

“Who do you think?” Mallard asked, sniffing carefully as he pulled a tissue from his pocket. “He’s the reason why I look like this.”

Arrow felt a shock of cold in his chest. He knew Mallard and his oldest brother were not on good terms, but...how did such a thing come into a conversation between them?

Mallard mumbled something that Arrow didn’t hear.

“What, sorry?” he asked quickly.

Mallard shook his head and sighed. “I just wanted to know why he was never proud of me.”

Now Arrow was confused.

“Proud of you for what, Mall?”

Mallard glared at him, but Arrow couldn’t be intimidated seeing the tears and the bandage on Mallard’s nose.

“My record,” he said in a low voice. “Of all people, besides Sir Nigel himself, I wanted my oldest brother to be proud of me. Is that too much to ask?”   
Arrow felt the cold in his chest melt into sadness. “Mall…”

“All he remembers is my arrogance. Fine, he’s right, I was a damn prick about the record but...doesn’t he remember?” Mallard’s voice trailed off into a strained whisper as tears began to drip down his cheeks.

Arrow looked around, glad that there were only a few people in the same train car and none of them were paying them any attention. 

“Mall,” Arrow began again, choosing his words carefully. “Sometimes, it’s hard for Spencer to remember the past. His time in the scrapyards damaged his memory, remember?”

“It’s no excuse,” Mallard said thickly. He gently blew his nose and Arrow hoped he wouldn’t cause himself to bleed again.

“I wanted him to pay attention to me. I wanted his approval. Great Northern gave me his approval, but...it wasn’t the same. Silver Link didn’t care about me...and he still doesn’t.”

Mallard slumped in his seat and wept, his face buried in the sleeves of his sweater. Arrow felt his heart ache and wondered distantly if Scott had ever known about this. He also noted how Mallard referred to Spencer as ‘Silver Link.’ While it had been a bit weird calling him Spencer at first, Arrow figured everyone had gotten used to it. But suddenly he realized…

It was  _ Spencer,  _ Mallard hated, not  _ Silver Link. _

“Mallard, I’m sure Sp-Silver Link cares about you. There’s...just a lot of pride in the way...on both sides.”

Mallard carefully pressed his hand to the bridge of his nose. “So how do I undo it?”

Arrow paused again. Was this the turning point he had waited for?

“There’s no way to completely undo it, I don’t think,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as unsure as he felt. “An apology--”

“But will he apologize to me?” Mallard said, looking troubled. “Will he apologize to me for...for…”

Arrow let Mallard’s sentence drift into silence.  _ That may take a while...and you may have more apologizing to do than you think. _

Arrow’s phone buzzed with a text from Scott.

_ Where are you? _

_ On my way back. _

_ From where?? _

_ Hospital. Mall’s nose is broken. _

He stared at the read receipt and noted the abrupt stop in replies. Arrow also knew of the wide chasm that separated Scott and Mallard, but he had to remind himself that it was Scott who had told Spencer not to hit his brother.

“I don’t know what to do,” Mallard said quietly, bringing Arrow back to the present.

Arrow thought back to Mallard’s first question.  _ Do I really have no purpose…? _

“Why did he say that?”

“Why did he say what?”

“Why did he say you had no purpose?” Arrow asked. There was no hope of phrasing that nicely.

“I was talking about my record,” Mallard replied. “He said it did nothing but put me on a museum plinth.”

_ You  _ are _ on a museum plinth,  _ Arrow thought. But of course, Arrow himself was on one too, since his repairs wouldn’t come for a long time, if at all. 

Arrow’s phone buzzed again.

_ I’ll make sure Spencer is out of sight by the time you get back. _

Arrow understood the reasoning, but it felt so wrong to see it written out.

_ Thanks _ , he replied.

Arrow turned to Mallard again.

“You were an inspiration, Mall. You inspired other railways to improve their engine designs, to improve travel times,” Arrow said. It was a weak argument, considering he was only part of the inspiration, and not the beginning of it.

Mallard did not reply to that. Arrow could see that he was thinking and decided not to push the subject further. The second point of contention was what really captured Arrow’s curiosity.

“I never knew you had craved Silver Link’s approval that badly,” Arrow said. Despite being two years older than Mallard, Arrow had not known him well until after preservation. He was still learning about Mallard’s past even now.

“I did,” Mallard said, closing his eyes. “But I fucked that up, didn’t I?”   
Arrow felt the cold seep into his chest again. “Well…” he began.

“He said I could have handled it better. I was young. I was three months out of Doncaster, of course I was going to be a cocky bastard. I had no guidance,” he trailed off, opening his eyes again.

“So things would have been different if Silver Link had...approved of you?” Arrow ventured.

Mallard nodded. “I think so. I could never get the same...guidance that I wanted if I had asked Great Northern for it. We were too different.”

Arrow thought back to North and wondered briefly what his opinion would have been on the situation. He kicked himself inwardly. North wouldn’t have let it get this far to begin with. The brothers would have been reconciled somehow and Mallard wouldn’t be sitting next to him with a broken nose and stitches on his lip.

He was about to respond when the train finally reached their stop. They got off, Mallard trailing behind Arrow, and began the short walk back to the museum.

As they walked, Arrow spoke up again.

“Mallard, did you...provoke it?”

Mallard stared straight ahead, not acknowledging the question.

“I feel like he wouldn’t have hit you like this otherwise.”

“Whose side are you on, Arrow?”

Arrow felt a stab of guilt. “I’m on no one’s side, Mall. I’m an unfortunate observer.”

Mallard stopped and looked at Arrow. The dark circles under his eyes seemed darker than usual from the shadows that fell across his face. His face was that of someone who was broken, but too stubborn to admit it.

“I just wanted to know why he wasn’t proud of me.”

With that Mallard turned and continued walking back to the museum. Arrow followed, knowing the answer to his last question was ‘yes’ and wondering why Mallard couldn’t have sat down and told Spencer (or was it Silver Link?) how he felt in a civil way.

_ Too much pride,  _ Arrow thought as they reached the museum. But the truth was out now and Arrow knew he couldn’t keep that information to himself for long. He hoped Scott had learned some truth from Spencer (Silver Link?) as well that could reconcile the two A4s.

But as he bid goodnight to Mallard and headed towards his room, Arrow pondered whether Mallard had reconciled Spencer to Silver Link.  _ They are the same person _ , Arrow thought as he laid down.  _ But I guess in Mallard’s mind, one is just a worse version of the other. _


End file.
